Haunted Illusions
by HollywoodGirl15
Summary: But not here, not on the verge of sleep when he felt as if he were falling into death. It was when the clock started ebbing away at five in the morning when the shadows would blend together in a cruel hallucination.
1. Haunted

She was a hollow, undeserving echo in the back of his mind, trembling and desperate to get free.

He ran his hands over his face, pressing his fingers into his eye sockets until he saw the deserving, comforting black that had always welcomed him. She was still there, among the unresolved echoes, past the sprinting desperation of green and pink flecks. Her face could still be seen, that same, unforgiving gleam on it as he tried to force the pressure out of his chest. Every ounce of her was in his body, crawling at his heart, suffocating his lungs. It was ludacris to want her this bad, to want to feel her actual touch than a resounding memory that clawed to get free.

The memory flickered once, twice, then erupted in a flicker of desolate jumps and skips as if a record had been broken. Her eyes bore into him, telling him silently that he had done wrong, that he was never to get her back, ever again in his life. It was a twisted, bittersweet feeling as it squeezed at his heart, trembling through the aching resolutions inside of his soul. She was never coming back, and it was a factor that he would have to face sometime, maybe even sooner than he would like. But he wanted the memory, craved it with everything he had. Because there her touch was real—it eloped him like a cavern of warmth, their bodies pressed close together like they had been so many times before.

Declan knew it was a false advertisement, however. He knew that the touch was just a figment of his imagination, knew that the flutter of her hair in the summer breeze was merely an aching memory that he would never get to actually touch again. It taunted him, keeping her just out of his reach as his fingertips reached out to touch her aching, burning skin. He wanted to sooth the pain, wanted to keep it away for as long as he could. He wanted to put out those resounding flames, wanted to pat her free of the fire and protect her like he was meant to do. But she was always so far out of reach, the smile never leaving her face as she taunted him.

It wasn't his job anymore—that had ended in Toronto when she told him she needed space, needed a break. But he couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop wanting her to be with him, to be there tucked into his side like she had always been. Holly J made him think, made all his wheels turn, made him rethink his ideals of being rich and getting what he wanted. But she was always so far out of his reach after that day, no texts or calls answered as he desperately stumbled to find his ground. Fiona had told him that he was slowly going crazy, that he had lost her, and that it was time to except it. But he couldn't—Declan Coyne had always gotten what he wanted, and now that she was gone, now that he couldn't have what he wanted? He felt lost, betrayed by his own sense of mind and feeling. He felt betrayed by the one thing that had always brought him comfort, had always brought him what he wanted and needed.

Money had got him into this, and he couldn't dig out of the hole that he had dug.

He was no longer green with envy for Sav—no that had died out a week after he had heard the news from Fiona that they were together. All he wanted was that one chance, that one fleeting hope that clung to his heart, desperate for attention. But he couldn't even have that, and his days seemed to go by in a haze. He hadn't known what to do, how to function, and his senior year began to slip away without a cause or feeling. He had been accepted to his Ivy League dream, had been good enough to get there, to take that step. But he didn't want it anymore—everything was a cold, vast land without her in his sights, without her to Skype and share the news with.

Declan couldn't recall the last time he had gotten a proper night's sleep. The thoughts all swirled around in his head the minute he closed his eyes, the moment he saw Toronto again and the last time he had ever seen her. The whispered faded voices lost their strength more and more each night, his fingers desperate to get a hold of them and tuck them away for forever, but his mind screaming at them to finally fade away. Then maybe the memories would go with him, and he could have some peace of mind. He just needed one day, one day to escape and be himself and not think about her antagonizing face. Not think about that…that night where things had gone so terribly, terribly wrong…

His fingers clutched at the already damp sheets covering his body tighter, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind desperately pleaded for sleep, for the precious REM cycle to take him away like it had so many times before. There he could have that bittersweet illusion, the one where he could feel her skin, inhale the precious scent of strawberries that always seemed to float around her skin. He could brush his lips to hers, feel that intoxicating high that seeped through his veins once they touched.

But not here, not on the verge of sleep when he felt as if he were falling into death. It was when the clock started ebbing away at five in the morning when the shadows would blend together in a cruel hallucination. His heart would thump louder, practically beating straight out of his chest as he tried desperately to formulate the thought that could will her away. Her perfect smile, her accusing look…it was all too much, too soon, too early.

For a moment he wondered if this is what being in the in between felt like; hanging on a perch above the world, desperate to get a breath of fresh air but pleading to fall to the blackness. Would it truly silence all thoughts? Was this truly different than hell?

Declan pressed his palms into his eyes until he could see swirling hues of green and pink again, before slowly exhaling and noting the way his chest expanded and fell in such a short amount of time. She was still there, waiting for him to notice her once more, but he wouldn't give her that satisfaction. No, not this time, not when he was so close to just pushing himself over the edge, of gaining the strength he had so desperately held close to him.

He pushed himself away from the sweaty comforters, glancing at the alarm clock that rested beside his bed. The green five taunted him, the familiar ache of no sleep settling into his bones as he struggled to breathe. She had taken the breath right out of him, and he never knew how to gain it back, how to regain control of his life in something that felt so unnatural, so paranormal in its own right. Running his hands through his hair and letting out an unhumored chuckle, Declan pushed himself through the doors of the familiar family loft as he made his way to the kitchen.

Everything was silent, the upstairs not even beginning to creak as he rubbed at his temples. A familiar aching headache was setting in there, tempting him to just grab the sleeping medication that had once been Fiona's. But he had to be stronger than that, had to will the illusion away, even if he truly didn't want it to leave. He grabbed a bottle of water before glancing out at the skies slowly beginning to turn a familiar hue of blue, his lip curling up in disgust as he slowly turned his back to the New York City skyline and into the living room where the large flat screen sat.

His eyes trailed over the bright colors and hues, never fully seeing anything that unraveled upon the screen. She was everywhere, taunting him, letting him think that he had that chance. That once he was at Yale this horrible nightmare would go away, that it would be like they had never broken up. She had told him that she didn't believe that he raped her, that they had just both been out of their minds when they had slept together after Fiona's party. But there was still that ebbing fear, that nonchalant desperation that rose up in his stomach, forcing him to want to prove himself.

He had never loved a girl with his entire body and soul before, and the revelation at just eighteen was a strange one. Perhaps it was a fluke, just that need to be with someone who managed to reject him for once. But she was everywhere…she lit up every thought, every feeling, every emotion as if it had always been so easy, as if it had always been the most natural thing in the world. They were meant to be together, were they not? So then why were they spending so much time apart, running around one another in circles that he couldn't fix?

Declan's fingers edged at the dying battery on his cell phone, his eyes scanning over the photo that was still embedded there, despite the fact that they had broken up months ago. He was so close to graduating—would she even really remember him? Her smiling face had always been a comfort to him, and now it was his own personal hell. His fingers hung over the call button, desperate to press it, desperate to feel all these illusions become real.

But he wasn't ready for that commitment, wasn't ready for his precious illusion of her to be shattered. Slowly placing the phone on table, Declan attempted to focus his thoughts on the television set, the images flickering over his retinas but never truly reaching his thoughts. His eyes finally began to feel heavy, dropping into another uneasy slumber as he heard the faint beeping of his cell phone battery going dead, erasing her face for another night.


	2. Void

Even in her sedated state of mind, he was still there, lurking in the dark depths with that renowned smile perched upon his lips.

Holly J hated seeing his face dancing around in her mind, so freely, so carelessly as she let her own eyes search the surroundings before her. She could see their memories sprawled out before her on a canvas of black and white—the typical term their relationship had always been hell bent on. Either one of them was right, or one of them was wrong—there was never compromise, never that longing desperation on her end to keep Declan Coyne for longer than she truly thought necessary.

It only took her a month to realize that Declan was the last thing keeping her sane, keeping her grounded as her life fell apart around her. Between the moving boxes and the pressures of desperately trying to get into Yale, the thought of Declan being there at the end of that tunnel was her ultimate satisfaction.

But after she had told him that they were on a break, had given his expensive necklace back to him so effortlessly, Holly J hadn't felt a thing. She felt more disgusted with herself—she had let him buy her, had been blinded what she had deemed was love. Even if that hadn't truly been Declan's intentions, it was in front of her eyes and the snide comment Fiona had made about it getting weird had stuck out in her mind. The twins were rich, and Holly J was brinking on the edge of being poor, of having no way to pay her way into Yale.

He had been the only guy to make his way in, and to twist her thoughts so easily. She had had her fair share of boyfriends, had had her fair share of typical teenage drama. But Declan was different, or at least she had thought he was. He understood her in a way that she hadn't been able to see before, and he brought out the best and worst in her with just the mere look he held in his eyes. He wasn't her Prince Charming by any means—their relationship had been flawed from the start and it was a dread she had known entirely too well once she had left New York.

When they had left each other is when things had fallen apart—long distance relationships could never last and they both had that antagonizing dread from the start. She had watched her life slowly slip from beneath her fingertips while he resided in New York, going to a fancy private school on a golden road to Yale University. She could barely breath as her financial struggle grew bigger, the boxes in the back of her room reminding her daily that Declan wasn't there to tell her that everything would be all right in the end.

Sure, they talked daily through the phone or through the computer. But seeing his face and hearing his voice through a computer monitor could only do so much. It couldn't provide her with that touch that she was longing, the one that always managed to make her thoughts disappear without so much as a blink of an eye. His words weren't as soothing, the talks becoming briefer, and she found herself longing more each and every day for his actual presence. She wanted his arms around her, for him to be that solid that in her life that wouldn't change when the stress became too much.

But Holly J Sinclair wasn't one to believe in fairytales, and she knew the ending of their story before it was anywhere near finished, tucked away neatly inside of a yearbook that would only bring back memories.

After Declan and her and separated for good, it left a gap inside her that she couldn't fill. It grew daily, her eyes sweeping along the halls of school as if he'd pop out and surprise her like he used to, even though he had been gone for nearly the entire year. She knew that he was gone, that he wouldn't come out again, but it didn't stop her from longing. Occasionally, Holly J let her mind wonder for the sake of still providing her childhood innocence.

Sav had been good to her, yes, but they both knew from the start that it wasn't the relationship that either of them wanted. She knew his eyes still rested on Anya, still wanted to be a part of her life despite his parents. And Sav knew that Holly J just needed a rebound, that she needed someone there to be able to function and take care of her. She was entirely too used to it, used to a male presence in her life when she needed it, and he was entirely too used to being that person. Their relationship was a lie as far as she had been concerned, but somewhere along the line that line had blurred and she had started developing feelings that were better left unsaid.

She had finally began to blur that line back, had finally began to let go of the antagonizing thoughts that always trembled through her mind when it came to Declan Coyne; and then he made a reappearance in her life. The simple lunch date hadn't been anything out of the ordinary until she mentioned her relationship with Sav, until she watched his face drop ever so slightly as he attempted to cover it up. Seeing him right in front of her for the first time in a month, so close to touching and kissing like she had been used to, retriggered the feelings that she had managed to suppress. She doubted that she would ever not feel whole around him, would never want to reach out and lace their fingers like they had done so many times before.

But after they had slept together, after everything and the whole 'rape' fiasco that she wasn't sure how had actually happened, she knew she had to be strong enough to walk away. It didn't matter that she longed for his touch, his reassurance as she pulled the covers up over her head every night to enter a disconnected dream. Holly J found herself longing for even the ringing of her computer, alerting her that he had found time to chat today. It seemed trivial to her that she was longing something she once hated. But she supposed that when you grow attached to someone, in no matter what way, you were always going to long for them to be in your life when they were clearly expelled.

She wanted to blame their problems on Fiona, how she so easily put doubts inside Holly J's mind. The twin never seemed to falter and inch when she said that she had broken up with Declan, a smile firmly set into place and telling Holly J that she had done the right thing. But had she only been strong for the fact that Holly J was her best friend and obviously hurting as well? Between her financial situation and her relationship with Fiona's twin brother, Holly J questioned how she had kept her sanity at all.

But there was a void where Declan should have been, a black hole that ate her heart and became the stable in the center of her body. It threatened to eat everything, including her sanity. She could practically feel the blood draining from her veins, the undeniable lurch in her stomach telling her all she needed to know whenever his taunting face lit up her mind.

She was cold, and undeniably so without him, even as the sensation of drugs slowly began to work their way from her system.

For a moment she could hear the beeps, smell the antiseptic that had greeted her senses only a mere few weeks prior. She could feel the cold brush of the air vents, pushing colder air throughout the hospital wing as she forced her mind out of the blurred shapes, out of the antagonized hell that her dream world had induced. A brash thought of it being the effect of drugs ran through the fog once, twice, then fell away to the realization that she had created that own nightmare world. Her REM cycle had produced it without any care for her feelings, without any resolve for the mental toll her body had just taken.

Holly J struggled to find her barring, her mind switching rapidly between the drug induced sleep and the reality around her. Through the fog, she could feel someone holding her hand, their free one smoothing back the bangs on her forehead as she slowly tried to drag herself further away from the thoughts.


End file.
